Healing Moment

I am sitting on the kitchen floor;
I have fallen again.
You are oblivious,
upstairs in the shower
singing your heart out.

The dog walks over to me,
covers me from head to toe
in healing spit;
I stroke his head,
turn my thoughts and

ask if he remembers when
we used to run in the field,
how he carried sticks far too wide to
fit through the gap in the hedge
so we walked the long way round.
The days I threw the ball and
he sat there looking at me,
embarrassed, it seemed,
that I could do something so silly.
His soft paw prints on frosted grass,
my footprints, solid, healthy, firm.

We have come a long way together
over the years, the dog and I;
friendship, understanding, trust, love,
and healing –
yes, much healing.

Advertisements

All Will Be Well

All shall be well
and all shall be well
and all manner of things
shall be well
Julian of Norwich

All Will Be Well

I’m not sure where my head was
when I bought the books,
recipes to die for, illustrated,
when even a spoon can argue
its way out of grip.

I think there was a quiver of loss,
last-ditch attempt to hold on,
ache of desire and grief for what was;
sore fingers grappling rock
before the fall.

But wanting leads us down a path
of sufferance,  starves the spirit,
sucks it dry.
Time to let go, embrace a
new normal, accept what is,
here in the moment;
an exposition, prelude to the next phase,
knowing that

wind will still blow secrets to the birds,
sun tease with games of hide and seek.
Rain will still fall soft on arid soil
or pelt like Tungsten darts,
and night stay true to promise of the day,
dewy grass to loosen rooted fears,
new breath,
a hint of trust.

The Fall and the Photograph

The Fall and the Photograph

Silver spines of hoar frost
cover unsuspecting garden
in a web of lace,
a rare sight this winter;
shouts for attention to be
captured in a moment,
click of finger,
recorded forever.

But the world
has turned sideways,
plant pots at eye level,
empty snail house,
opted for warmer
climes perhaps,
hairy spider
raising his hat –
too close for comfort.

Falling can be helpful,
makes you pause, see,
connect.

I drag myself up,
apologetic dignity
restored,
dust myself down,
and amidst
startled blue air,
click the shutter.

Wendy L. Macdonald

My faith is not shallow because I've been rescued from the deep.

Pitching Pennies Poetry

the work of smzang

Grit Flow

courage, resolution, strength of character

Veggiewitch

Manifesting abundance & sharing my truth

The Fat Damsel

Poems To Survive In

roughwighting

Life in a flash - a weekly writing blog

Some Good Things

Musings of an explorer...

Poet's Corner

Poems, poets, poetry, writing, poetry challenges

Seasonings

Just a little poetry...

Gramma Krackers

Words of the Wise Krackers

dVerse

Poets Pub

leaf and twig

where observation and imagination meet nature in poetry

Connecting Beyond

Beyond The Known

Awakened Words

Poetry and Other Ramblings

Polly

Writings and Witterings